


Howling For You

by JueJueBahn



Series: The Smutty Songfic Collection [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, DUI actually! derek u rebel, I'm so not sorry, M/M, Mentions of Masturbation, Mentions of Mates, PWP, Still not sorry, Underage - Freeform, also stiles is sweet sweet prey, dub con, handjobs, ohgawd this PWP is suddenly developing feels isn't it, stiles only exists to do derek's broody werewolf biddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JueJueBahn/pseuds/JueJueBahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's Derek's car (from s01) which basically says it all cause that was a fine fking car. Stuff happens in that fine car after Derek interrupts Stiles' alone time with a not that important text message.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howling For You

**Author's Note:**

> Since I'm high on AlphaCon-Endorphins right now, Imma give you the next part of this series =) (only 2 weeks yaaaaay Vienna here I come! well I'm actually already in Vienna nevermind)  
> Yeah this part. gawd I think this one is better than the last? But yeah in case u want more info on this:  
> 1st: this srsly is just PWP. don't expect story to follow or develop or whatever. I do make mentions of a storyline, but let's be honest here, it's more setup than actual plot so thereugo.  
> 2nd: I have 4 parts planned for this and I haven't written the last one yet- I don't know when I'll get to it, so. sorry? xD part 3 is already written but I wanna look it over again before I post it. then again maybe I'll also post it today. who knows where another beer will lead me.  
> here's the song (what were u expecting- it's a tw songfic of course this song is in here duh.):  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3scl0fl0zE

Howling For You

Derek knows something is off about the boy's scent the second the car door is opened.

They have only seen each other in the company of someone else since that night and Stiles has acted as awkward around him as Derek had calculated he would. In truth, it has actually been amusing- the increased flailing and tripping and blushing and babbling; and the weirdest thing about it is no one but Derek has seemed to notice that Stiles has been even more fidgety than usual these days. It has also served to keep the wolf in check, knowing that Stiles was thinking about him and losing his cool for the sole reason that the boy keeps remembering them having sex.

He has in fact been proud of refraining from touching Stiles that way for almost a week.

But he needs him now- the information the boy has found about the creature they still have not found actually. What he has not been prepared for is the way Stiles' scent fills up the small room inside the car when he slumps in, embarrassed scowl on the boy's face even as he closes the door.

"What?"

"What, what?" Stiles squeals and looks too indignant for Derek to even begin to understand what he is so pissed about. "I'm not your…! Jesus!"

He takes a deep breath and focuses on the console before he continues his tirade, and Derek realises what that smell is. It makes his insides churn and his pulse quicken.

"You can't just expect me to be ready to go whenever you text me! I don't exist only to do your broody werewolf biddings, you know! I'm a teenager, I still have school, remember? I cannot just jump up and go chasing monsters with you whenever you tell me to be 'ready and down in five minutes'!"

He's fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and Derek notices it's buttoned up wrong- right side one button lower than the left- and he actually has to close his eyes when he inhales again. Stiles is like a drug to his nose, heady and intriguing, and he feels how long it's been in every pore of his body. Even with the tension of the full moon out of his system he feels helpless in the rush of his emotions, feels his heartbeat pick up and long for the boy pressed up against him skin on skin. It's useless trying to remind himself that his existence is made up of more than want and need because all he can focus on right now is the lust surging through him.

"Were you beating off?"

His voice is a growl and he's almost sorry for how intimidating he must sound. Almost.

Because Stiles freezes and watches him open-mouthed and shocked and it's a good thing he remembers they're still parked in front of the sheriff's house, because he needs to get them out of there and somewhere private before he gets arrested because of this teenager again.

"I… you… what…? So??"

Stiles face goes red, but he still seems more angry than embarrassed. Derek in turn gives in to the groan that fights to leave his body and bumps his head hard into the headrest. His vision bleeds when he looks at Stiles and he grips the wheel tight to keep himself from reaching out. Stiles gulps.

"You didn't finish" Derek mumbles and stares onto the road as he eases the Camaro out onto the street.

"Well, you interrupted!" Stiles squeaks, and his cheeks turn a brighter shade of red that he tries to hide by looking out the window. "Oh my God!"

Derek only realises he's reacting when he hears his own growl and bless whatever almighty beings actually existed, Stiles can't find any answering words. It takes all he has not to maul oh so ready smelling Stiles somewhere on the ride, so it really is a blessing that the boy's just sitting there, trying to meld with the car door, leg jumping up and down in a pace almost as fast as Derek's pulse. Somewhere during the drive it seems to dawn on Stiles that there's something wrong, because they're not going in the direction of Derek's loft or even any of the other places they usually discuss tactics and plans in- but the preserve. He keeps sending Derek those shy, concerned looks and nibbling on his thumb nail, but apparently his ideas of what's about to happen aren't that far off, because he smells more aroused and sure by the second, and it's really not something that serves to slow or calm Derek down in any way. He's hard in his jeans and the movement of Stiles adjusting himself tells him the boy is too and fucking finally they're deep enough into the woods that no one will come by at this hour.

Derek stops the car and Stiles tenses.

"So what…?" Stiles begins but startles when Derek undoes both their seat belts and growls again. The tight space inside the Camaro only serves to intensify the thick smell of excitement and hunger and even though Stiles can't sense it, he's obviously aware of the program, biting his lip and backing into the passenger door like he's not sure if he should offer himself or flee. It's an excruciatingly good look on him- a mixture of prey and mate, and Derek really shouldn't be thinking about this because the boy is seventeen, he doesn't know the meaning of forever the way it's inscribed in a wolf's existence- finding the right person and sticking with them.

He has no excuse this time, the full moon has passed, he's been in control of himself for almost a whole week, but this now, the close proximity, pheromones all around him, the flush on Stiles' face and that unaware want reflected in the boy's eyes make him this feral thing that he is definitely not proud of, but feels a bit of righteous acceptance for in the urgent, needy look Stiles sends him. He wants so badly and he really can't fight the urge down when Stiles smells and looks and feels like he wants him in return, even though it seems the boy still hasn't fully realised it yet.

"Come here."

It's not a request, and his voice is sandpaper rough and fuck he hopes Stiles will surprise him by actually listening because if the kid runs and lets him chase he knows the last of his control is done for. Of course Stiles doesn't listen.

"You c-can't be ser-…" he mumbles, blushing harder, hand scrambling for the door handle even as he tries to back away further. Derek doesn't even hear himself growl, just realises the next second the front of Stiles' shirt is between his fingers and the boy is sprawled across the seats, Derek's lips stealing all the desperate noises he loses during the kiss. He doesn't let the boy off easy, hand tight on the back of his neck, and Stiles flails a bit before he finds he's just gonna hurt himself if he doesn't hold on. So he does, palms on Derek's shoulders, gives a light yelp when Derek grumbles in approval. He smells heavenly now- anxious and confused, yes, but also desperately turned on. Derek's always known Stiles was a fast learner, but it's proven in the easiness with which he kisses back, even though Derek uses too many teeth- biting across Stiles' lips just to hear the boy whimper every time he pulls a tad too harshly.

When he ends the kiss Stiles moans at the loss. He looks like everything Derek wants, eyes shut tight in concentration and embarrassment, lips wet and swollen and Derek can't pry his gaze away, has admittedly dreamt of that mouth too many times this week. He can't help the groan that escapes him, or licking across Stiles lips slowly, relishing Stiles' shiver and cling to Derek's jacket.

"God, Stiles…" comes out as a whisper, blown over Stiles' moist lips, and the boy opens his eyes, pupils blown wide and stare off, even as he pants into Derek's face and searches his eyes for something, maybe guidance. It's too much, basically an invitation for Derek to tell him what to do, and it punches the air out of the werewolf's lungs and all the blood down to his groin.

He pushes their foreheads together and lets himself get drunk on Stiles' scent while he opens his fly and pulls out his cock, giving it a hard tug and watching Stiles swallow as the boy tries to not look down. Derek is sticky with precome already and he shifts in his seat, towards Stiles, nudging Stiles' nose with his own. Stiles' heartbeat kicks up a notch when Derek buries his fingers in his short hair, but he doesn't say a word when Derek pushes him down- careful and slow, but nonetheless relentless. The whimper he makes when his eyes fly down to Derek's cock only feeds both their arousal, so thick in the air now Derek thinks he can taste it on his tongue.

When he's level with Derek's groin he gives a sorry little whine again and looks up, so unsure and helplessly turned on, hands resting on Derek's thighs like he doesn't know what to do with himself. He's such an exact replica of Derek's fantasies that it makes him groan, even as he tries to calm the boy down, running his fingers through his hair and across his cheek. Stiles closes his eyes and takes a deep breath that comes stuttering out of him again when he reestablishes eye contact. But he does look more certain now, ready and he makes the filthiest moan when Derek thumbs his bottom lip and then forces his mouth open. It's weird how wordless Stiles is when they do this, but Derek is incapable of making himself believe that he's taking advantage because he knows Stiles wants this as much as he does, just doesn't know how to ask for it.

Stiles is still looking at him, and when Derek runs his thumb across his lip again, he whines once more and opens his mouth wider, only lowering his eyes again when Derek grabs the base of his cock and pulls Stiles closer by his neck. They both groan at the first contact of Stiles' lips with the head and Derek knows this will last an embarrassingly short amount of time. He feeds Stiles more of his dick and the boy's eyebrows draw together in concentration and withheld desire. Stiles is careful enough to cover his teeth, but he's pushing back against Derek's hand as if he wants to do this all by himself. Derek is too far gone to care much anyway, because Stiles' mouth is warm and wet and he's keeping his lips tight enough that it feels perfect- and Derek has to hold him still for a bit before this is over too soon. He comes back down when Stiles' makes a choking noise and wickedly pulls Stiles in more just to hear it again when he hits the back of Stiles' throat. Stiles flails a bit and then just digs his fingers into Derek's thighs, the sound of his fingernails scrabbling against jeans loud in Derek's ears, but not as loud as the thump of Stiles' heart- and amazingly it's not panic, it's pleasure. He doesn't fight back, just holds on and holds out, even when tears form in his eyes and yeah, Derek's gonna come in less than a minute.

He lets Stiles go and the boy pulls back, gasping for breath and wiping at his eyes, but he stays down between Derek's legs and freezes when Derek pets him, fingernails gentle against Stiles' scalp right over his ear. Stiles looks up at him and whimpers, but doesn't say anything, not even commenting on the obvious dog joke hanging between them. Then he licks his lips and goes back in and Derek lets his head roll against the car window when Stiles envelops him again, pleasure zinging bright and hot like lightning through his blood. This time he's the one holding on for dear life, fingers tight in Stiles' hair as Stiles bobs his head. His rhythm is irregular and faulty, but Derek's on the edge quickly anyway, especially because Stiles makes such a good sight, cheeks hollowed, concentrated frown on his blushed face, spit running down to his chin. Derek makes him go faster simply by rolling his hips up and Stiles moans desperately, tries to keep up, fingers shaking against Derek's thighs.

When Derek comes it feels like all his withholding over the week prior is seeping out of him, that huge weight off his shoulders, and he almost howls as he spills inside Stiles' mouth, keeping the boy close by the grip he has on him, thankfully human nails digging into the skin on the back of Stiles' neck. Stiles whimpers and tries to swallow all but chokes halfway and Derek has enough of his sense back to let him go and cough abashedly into his palm as he sits up.

They're both catching their breath and Derek looks Stiles over, slumped against the passenger seat, hand against his mouth, dishevelled and small, pulling on the leg of his jeans to ease some of the pressure on his painful looking erection. He moves to wipe the come and spit off his jaw, but Derek grabs his wrist and burrows into his space. It's an unexpectedly big sting in his chest when Stiles doesn't look at him, keeps his watery eyes trained to the side, even as he stifles his moan when Derek licks his face clean.

There's not much space in the car so they end up uncomfortably sprawled around each other, legs tangled in weird angles, Stiles pressed into the corner between the door and seat and Derek kisses him again, sweetly, tries to get Stiles confidence back up because he's been so good. Some of that he must have said out loud because Stiles moans and holds onto his shoulders again, letting him lick his own taste out of Stiles' mouth. He palms Stiles through his jeans and if their position would have granted it, Stiles would have curled in on himself, going tense all over and whining like he's hurt. Derek takes pity on him and opens his fly, looks into Stiles eyes, even as the kid still can't look at him and instead watches as Derek takes out his cock and starts stroking him, nice and steady. His palm is dry but it seems to be more than enough for Stiles, who squirms and gasps and tries and fails to hold his hips still. He's so beautiful, blush high on his cheeks, face wet and open, shiny eyes trained on Derek's hand on him as if he's still not sure this isn't all a dream.

"Fuck, you're perfect…"

Stiles looks up at him then, surprised, like no one has ever called him that before, and Derek has to kiss that expression off his face until Stiles is a trembling, moaning mess beneath him, holding onto Derek's T-shirt tight as he comes messily all over it and his own and Derek's fingers. Derek strokes and kisses him through it until Stiles pushes at his arm and whines from oversensitivity. He lets his head fall back and watches Derek lick his come off his fingers, groans at the action. He looks well fucked and kind of out of it and Derek wants to take him home and wrap him in a blanket, keep him safe so no one but him ever sees Stiles in this state.

When they've both calmed down, Stiles clears his throat and sniffs, looks back out the window again and awkwardly tries to get his legs disentangled from Derek's.

"So was this… actually a booty call…?" Stiles murmurs, sweetly sheepish now even with his limp cock hanging out of his jeans' fly.

Derek sighs, tries to regain his posture when all he really wants to do is nuzzle the boy's neck and fall asleep on top of him.

"No."

Amazingly, Stiles seems to calm at the word.

"I still need to know what you found."

Stiles nods, still doesn't look him in the eye. He blushes harder while he rearranges himself and tucks everything back inside. It seems to Derek that he licks his lips more than usual.

"Right… erm, well… let's get it over with then. I kinda want to find this fucker sooner than later… I mean, I have better things to do than spend my nights looking for clues about supernatural shit going on…"

Derek can't help the smirk that spreads on his face.

"Indeed" he says and Stiles blanches when he looks at him.


End file.
